Ah, what fun! To tell the truth, I went to this opera only because my wife wanted to see it, but how glad I am I did! It was a romp. The plot is so silly that the question of suspending disbelief doesn't even come up. The singing was so unforced it was a real pleasure to listen to, like "Oh, what's this coming up, a high C, OK, sing it, all right, that's done, what's next?" What surprised me was seeing how good a comic actor Anna Netrebko is, in everything from her dainty little ballet steps to her tomboyish bouncing up and down on the bed (which must have been a trampoline for her to get up so high). Good show, from start to finish.

You could tell they were all having fun on the stage, and every time the camera showed James Levine, he was grinning from ear to ear. I was amazed to hear this was his 40th year with the Met. That means he's 68 years old, since he was 28 when he was first hired.

We loved that rapid-fire duet sung by Pasquale and Malatesta (repeated as a mid-act encore!). And Del Carlo and Kwiecien stayed in character even after they left the stage, pantomiming their way past the backstage camera until they were no longer in sight. Oh yes, they were having fun, all right.

Speaking of Malatesta, is there any other opera that has a baritone character named Mal-anything who is one of the good guys? Netrebko was wonderful, as she always is, but I want to put in a word for the tenor, Matthew Polenzani. What a sweet voice he has, and such a lovely high pianissimo. Made me think of Tagliavini.

Oh wow, I do hate being odd man out, but I just didn't connect with this production. There's no faulting the singing, but...oh, I don't know. I just felt something was missing. All right, throw rocks at me.

Actually, I've just realised that Malcolm is a tenor, not a baritone. And he doesn't have a lot to sing.

Glad to see the Don Pasquale reports. When I first saw it, as a student in Oxford way back in 1967, I found the climactic moment in Act 3 when Norina hits Pasquale rather upsetting, even though she immediately regrets it. Later, I realised that much depends on the director and the singer of the role of Pasquale - is he just a buffoon who deserves all he gets or is he the victim of a nasty trick?

That patter-duet always brings the house down. At the Met, did they insert the spoken "Don Pasquale!", "Dottore!" (or is it the other way round?) just before the end? The first recording I bought of the opera was conducted by Riccardo Muti, and I was most disappointed to find that he'd omitted this extra piece of business which (I think) doesn't appear in the score.